


A Private Collection

by defeatedbyabridge



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defeatedbyabridge/pseuds/defeatedbyabridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy has a collection.</p><p>Similar in some ways to Vic's poignant <a href="http://www.unfitforsociety.net/musesfool/mineeyesdazzle.htm">Mine Eyes Dazzle</a>; a wonderful Xander story. NOT meant as plagiarism!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Private Collection

McCoy has a collection.

It's not something he shows anyone. It's not something he needs, really, either. Maybe he should stop doing it.

He smiles at people he knows as he walks along the corridor. Uhura says something about the air vents. He nods and responds on autopilot. She smiles, and continues on her way.

He reaches his quarters and steps inside. "Computer," he says abruptly, "unlock second panel, code McCoy nine-one-alpha." 

A panel next to his bed slides open. Something Scotty obligingly put in for him many years ago, after the gift of some fine booze. Scotty's a good man. Doesn't ask too many questions. 

McCoy reaches in and removes the album. He could do this on computer, but he's an old-fashioned man, and for something like this he needs weight in his hands. Something real, to touch. 

He opens it on the bed and thumbs through the pages. "Thompson, Bernard... Liddle, Melanie... T'Brun... Terry, Michael..." 

Too many to look at them all just now. He finds a blank page, takes the old-fashioned fountain pen from his pocket, and begins to write. 

_Hutton, Shaun._

_Security officer. Killed on the second landing party to the forest planet -- Sirius IV. Liked dancing, Italian food. Told me last week he was going to ask out Lieutenant Weinstein._

_His uniform shirt was always too short. His bony wrists always stuck out of the sleeves._

McCoy sits for a moment and takes in what he's written, remembering back to earlier today when he'd declared Hutton dead. Dead on arrival back on ship, killed by some ravening beast, protecting his captain. 

"Hell, Jim and Spock nearly died too," he says softly. "Neither of 'em has ever been the type to back away."

McCoy picks up the album again and places it back in his hideaway. 

He doesn't have to do this. There are official records. Jim remembers, of course, and Spock -- with his encyclopaedic memory, Spock remembers better than anyone. 

But this is personal. These kids need to be remembered, not just for their deaths, but for their lives.


End file.
